Sins of a Nation
by AnimeKnightmare
Summary: Nobody's perfect. The Seven Deadly Sins of Greed, Sloth, Gluttony, Lust, Wrath, Envy, and Pride are released upon the world again when France opens a box he found in England's closet. They search for hosts and possess the nations that can accommodate them best. How will the nations handle this new predicament? And what do the sins want with England?
1. Prologue

**Summary: Nobody's perfect. The Seven Deadly Sins of Greed, Sloth, Gluttony, Lust, Wrath, Envy, and Pride are released upon the world again when France opens a box he found in England's closet. They search for hosts and possess the nations that can accommodate them best.. How will the other nations handle this? And what do they want with England? Read and find out.**

 **Hello! This is my first multi-chapter story, so if I can get some encouragement it would be much appreciated. This is also my first Hetalia fic, so if there's any mistakes in personality or anything like that please let me know.**

 **This story most likely won't be updated regularly...so, yeah. No flames, please.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia (although I'm not sure how relevant that is in this chapter).**

 **Enjoy~!**

Prologue: We are the Capital Vices

 _We remember what it was like to live. We were born human. We lived as a human. But we didn't die human._

 _When we lived, we sinned. We turned our back on the virtues and drowned ourselves in the vices. We became the Deadly Sins personified. Everyone feared us. They were afraid of what we became. Humans are always so afraid of what they don't comprehend. The people acted on their fear and attacked us. Captured us. Killed us by utilizing an ancient black magic spell to separate our souls from our bodies and seal them in a box. We were no longer human; we were sin through and through. We remember the face of the man who did this to us._

 _The man took possession of the box and put us away like an old forgotten photo album. Never to be remembered. Fated to spend all eternity in isolation with nothing but each other as company. That was our punishment, carried out by a non-deity. A mere_ human _no less. How pitiful of us, the sins, being casted aside by a being other than God himself. A nickname was given to the man: He-Who-Conquered-Sin._

 _That was centuries ago. We know we are destined to return. We have the devil's luck on our side to aid us in our revenge. Vengeance will be ours and that man will be pleading for his pathetic life at our feet._

 _Prepare yourself, He-Who-Conquered-Sin. We are coming for you._

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 **Tell me what you think! Review please.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Wow, I didn't think I would update this soon. Hopefully I can write the next chapter just as quickly. I also didn't think this story would get so much attention. Thank you all so much!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

 **Chapter 1  
**

Arthur Kirkland sighed in relief as warm water from the shower eased his tired muscles. It had been a long day and an even longer meeting, especially since he was up until three the night before trying to settle an issue with his boss. That man could be quite stubborn, but then again so could he.

Tomorrow, he would inform his boss of his final decision. Hopefully they could come to an agreement, and that would be the end of it. Following that, other matters needed his attention.

For example: the fact that France was coming over in about thirty minutes.

The Englishman groaned and rubbed his temples. He was not in the mood right now for the bloody git to come and ruin his blissful moments of peace and quiet. Unfortunately, time to himself was becoming rarer and rarer recently due to the amount of work that had piled up on his desk.

He took a deep breath and calmed himself. Now was not the time to worry about such things. For the next half hour, he could just forget and relax…

 _Ding Dong_

…Oh bloody hell.

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"I'll be waiting for you, Angleterre~" the Frenchman called out to his friend. England closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah, yeah," he said dismissively, "Just don't touch anything while I'm gone."

France gave him a thumbs up. "You can count on me." Of course, England didn't buy it one bit.

France watched as he walked out of the room, listening for his footsteps to fade. As soon as they did, France stood up and walked towards a door on the opposite side of England's room. He opened it, revealing a good-sized closet lined with (unfashionable) clothes and books and boxes of all kinds were stacked neatly under the articles of clothing. France began searching for a certain box.

Now, you might be wondering what France is doing snooping around in England's closet looking for the thing that will kick off this story's plot. Well, let me tell you…

A group of Frenchmen had decided to visit other parts of the world, starting with London. While at a busy pub, they overheard some Englishmen arguing about whether some legend was true or not. Said legend was thus:

Hundreds of years ago, seven people defied God. They followed sin and were enslaved fully of their own free will. They did horrible things to the world, infecting it with the vices. Being so impure and powerful in their own way, they became known as the Seven Deadly Sins, Greed, Lust, Gluttony, Wrath, Envy, Sloth, and Pride, incarnate. If a human were to commit one of these sins, they would be separated from God. The more they sinned, the farther they would be pulled away, until they became the sin itself.

To rid themselves of the vices, the people called upon a man of great power and knowledge to obliterate them. The man couldn't kill them, as their power was greater than that of a mortal, but he sealed their souls in a special box. He told the people they would never rise again. However, a few people who were present said that they saw the box glow and a single voice that seemed to be made up of hundreds whispered…

 _We will return, we the Deadly Sins_

 _You cannot escape, we always win_

 _You can try and run, you can try and hide,_

 _But it's difficult to kill what's inside_

One stated with confidence that it was most certainly _not_ fiction, that they would return and bring the world to ruin. The other two disagreed, saying that the man who sealed the sins away was centuries old and used powerful magic. There was no way they could break free.

The Frenchmen thought it would be fun to spread around that amusing fairy tale, and news travels fast in France. Soon, France himself heard it and put two and two together. A very old man, magic, in England: Arthur Kirkland. Now we return to the story.

France grumbled top himself as he closed another box and put it away. How hard can it be to find what he was looking for? He knew England didn't have an attic or a basement, and he would most likely want it close so he could keep an eye on it.

France got up from his squatting position and scratched his head. "How hard can it be to find one box in a tiny closet?" He pondered aloud. He didn't have unlimited time, England was only going to make some tea and come back. The country leaned his back up against the back wall…only for him to slip right through.

France stood and rubbed his throbbing behind, cursing the wall under his breath in his native tongue. Looking around, he saw that he was in a large room with flaming torches on the walls. In the center was a dark brown pedestal carved with intricate designs, and, upon closer inspection, words in Latin, Greek, and a few other languages he didn't recognize.

The blonde looked at the small, fancy chest sitting atop the pedestal with wide eyes. A container only about the size of a tissue box held the seven greatest impurities ever know to man? Preposterous. It's just not possible.

France held the chest to his face, curiosity on his eyes. He slowly opened the lid. Inside the container was...nothing but blackness; it didn't seem to have a bottom. France cautiously lowered a hand down into the darkness, and lowered…and lowered…until his arm disappeared up to the elbow. Quickly, he pulled his hand out and shut the lid back down. That silly rumor couldn't be true, right? He was beginning to have doubts.

On the lid, there were seven stars, each with a different word engraved above it. From left to right, it was: _Acedia, Gula, Luxuria, Invidia, Ira, Avaritia, Superbia_. He didn't speak much Latin, but he did know that Luxuria meant Lust from the many times England had used that word to describe him when he was close by.

France stared in shock at the chest. "Mon dieu…" He said, fear creeping into his voice, "What have I done."

The box began to glow.

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 **I know it's kinda bad, but I promise the next chapter will be a _lot_ better. R &R**


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